


Special Delivery

by conceptofzero



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-16
Updated: 2011-10-16
Packaged: 2017-10-24 16:18:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conceptofzero/pseuds/conceptofzero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They catch him off-guard. That's the only reason they get the jump on Slick. He's not anticipating any troubles on this job. It's not a bank job or a jewellers heist, it's just an accountant's office up on the fifth floor of an office building. They've got keys to building's back door and the office, and all Slick needs to do is let himself in and open the safe using the combination that the chucklefuck accountant keeps in his desk. There's no reason to drag along the rest of the boys so he doesn't. This proves to be a mistake when, right after he gets the safe open, he's ambushed by the Felt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special Delivery

They catch him off-guard. That's the only reason they get the jump on Slick. He's not anticipating any troubles on this job. It's not a bank job or a jewellers heist, it's just an accountant's office up on the fifth floor of an office building. They've got keys to building's back door and the office, and all Slick needs to do is let himself in and open the safe using the combination that the chucklefuck accountant keeps in his desk. There's a night watchman, but he never goes up to the fifth floor, and at this time of night, there's nobody around to be a pain in his ass. There's no reason to drag along the rest of the boys so he doesn't.

This proves to be a mistake when, right after he gets the safe open, he's ambushed by the Felt. Not all the Felt though, just three of those green fucks. Normally, three of them wouldn't be anything to worry about, at least as long as Snowman isn't one of them, but there's only one of Slick and the three who jump him are the least-stupid of the bunch. He fights back, but they're prepared, and Slick ends up hogtied, kneeling on the carpet of the office and unable to get away.

Stitch settles himself by the safe, counting up the cash inside while Crowbar checks to make sure the knots are tight. And Die decides to be real useful and taunts Slick, "For a big time gangster, you're not all that scary. You went down real easy."

"Untie me, and I'll show you just how fucking scary I can be!" Slick tries to lunge at Die, but Crowbar yanks him back into place, "If you take that money, I'm going to hunt you down and break your legs!"

"No you won't," Crowbar straightens up and walks around to the front of Slick. Die pulls out a gun, tapping the barrel on Slick's head, "You're not going to do anything, because you're in no position to do anything."

"There's five-thousand here," Stitch throws the last stack of bills into the bag and gets up, knees cracking as he stands. Slick should have gone for him first, broke that fucker's kneecaps. Then it would have only been two on one, which were much better odds, "Scratch is going to be pleased. We should head off, before his friends show up."

"In a moment. Snowman gave me something to give to him," Crowbar grins, and Slick tenses up. Anything that would make that fucking clown smile is nothing but bad news for Slick.

"She can shove it up her ass!" Slick snarls back, but that doesn't get the reaction he expects. Die snorts like Slick's told a good joke, and Crowbar's grin just gets fucking wider.

Crowbar reaches for his pants. Slick expects him to draw out Snowman's pistol or something. But instead, he opens his fly, and draws out his dick. Slick blinks, not entirely sure what he's seeing. It's not like he's given any speculation to what the Felt's dicks would look like, but he wasn't expecting them to have black stripes on 'em. It's like a fucking day-glow zebra.

"Maybe later. But right now, it's for you," Crowbar's weird cock sticks out out of his fly, curving up ever so slightly. Slick doesn't want to look, but it's right there. Aside from the green stripes, it's a cock, just more fleshy than the ones Slick's seen. And that just means it'll be easier to break it off if Crowbar comes closer.

“If you put your mutant stripped dick anywhere near my mouth, I’m going to bite it off,” There's another snicker from Die, and Slick shoots him a nasty look, sneering up at him, “Same goes for you.”

“No you won’t. You don’t have a deathwish,” Crowbar steps in closer and Slick tries to look away. One green hand settles on Slick’s head and forces him to look straight ahead. The other wraps around the stripped cock and strokes it a few times. The stripes smear a little, and Jack realizes that they're not stripes at all, they're lipstick prints. Black lipstick prints.

Oh fuck. For the first time in maybe ever, Slick keeps his mouth shut instead of letting it flap.

There's the sound of cocked pistol, and Die prods Slick in the back of the head with the gun barrel, "Come on asshole, open wide."

"Don't give Die an excuse to hurt you. He's been looking for one since you beat us to the diamond heist," Crowbar sets a hand on the top of Slick's head, and pulls him forward. The green cock pushes up against Slick's mouth, but he keeps it closed, "Snowman blew all these kisses just for you. I can't go back and tell her you wouldn't take them. You know how she gets when she's been rejected."

Slick glares up at Crowbar, willing the fucker to drop dead. Crowbar pushes his cock against Slick's mouth again, and Slick opens his mouth just long enough to bite Crowbar. He doesn't do nearly as much damage as he wants to, but he does draw blood in the half-second that his teeth are digging in, before Die smacks Slick upside the head with the pistol. Slick falls back, head spinning from being cold-clocked. Die hits Slick again for good measure, before asking, "You okay?"

"Aw fuck. Yeah, fine," Crowbar looks down at his dick, and the bright red blood beading on the shaft, "Thanks for the save."

"Anytime," The pistol hits Slick full in the face his time, knocking Slick over onto his back. He struggles to get up, and Die kneels down, slamming Slick's head into the floor. This shit is really starting to hurt, "You can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way involves you sucking dick, which should be real easy for a sleeze like you. The hard way still involves you sucking dick, only me and Stitch will have pulled all your teeth out with pliers first."

"Fuck you," Slick spits out, along with some blood. Die hits him for a forth time and Slick snarls. The fucker wouldn't be so cocky if he didn't have a pistol in his hands.

"In a moment," Crowbar reaches down, yanking Slick back up onto his knees, "What's it going to be?

He glowers up at Crowbar. There's no way he's going to do anything they say, especially not something this fucking degrading. But he knows that it isn't an idle threat. If he doesn't get Crowbar off, they will yank his teeth out. They might lose a finger or two doing it, but that's probably why they brought the fucking scar-faced bastard along to patch them up again. All spite has a cost, but this is beyond even what he can normally afford.

While he's staring Crowbar down, Stitch pulls a stitch-ripper out of his jacket pocket, reaches over, and promptly stabs Slick in the neck with it. The bastard manages to draw some blood with that fucking thing, but more than that, the pain makes Slick's mouth pull into it's usual snarl, and Crowbar shoves his cock inside just like that.

He tries to spit it out, but Crowbar gets a hand on the top of Slick's head keeps him in place. Slick's nose smashes up against Crowbar's pelvis while the head of Crowbar's cock shoves against the back of Slick's throat. It's enough to make Slick gag, but not enough to get Crowbar out. Slick would love to bite the prick's dick off, but the gun pressing up against his skull again is a reminder that there's worse in store for him if he doesn't go along with this. And he's not dying with somebody's fucking dick in his mouth.

Crowbar draws back, only to thrust in again, not giving Slick even a second to adjust to this shitty situation. Slick struggles with his bonds, but they're too tight, and it's hard to focus when some asshole's fucking your face. Crowbar's cock tastes like lipstick and Snowman, and Slick's traitorous mind conjures up an image of Snowman on her knees, sucking off Crowbar before he showed up. Slick's own cock gets a bit confused by the whole situation and starts twitching, and he does his best to ignore the fucking thing. It'd be nice if he could ignore Crowbar, but his dick isn't so easily dismissed, not when the green bastard won't let Slick off to breathe.

"That's right, take it in," Slick's can't see, but he knows that fucking grin is on Crowbar's face. The dick in his mouth is hot and hard, and the salty taste of precum and the waxy taste of lipstick are just making Slick thirsty. He swallows, mostly involuntarily, and Crowbar just chuckles, "Don't be shy. Snowman wasn't."

He's going to kill Crowbar when this is over. And then, he's going to find a way to kill him again for good measure. No asshole puts his dick in Spade Slick's mouth and gets away with it. His eyes focus on the waistcoat in front of him. If he works with Crowbar, he could get him off faster. Slick swallows again, not so involuntarily this time. That's greeted with laughter from Crowbar and Die and Slick mentally cusses himself out for that single swallow.

"Hey Crowbar, he likes it!" Die nudges the barrel into the back of Slick's head. Slick's going to make that top-hat wearing fuck eat that pistol the first chance he gets, "Look at him go. He's gagging for it."

Crowbar presses hard against the back of Slick's throat, and Slick does gag, body seizing up. He can barely breathe with the cock in his mouth, and the nasty taste isn't doing any favours. Crowbar chuckles like this is fucking hilarious, pulling back only after Slick feels like he might pass out from lack of air, "Of course he is. Snowman told me all about him, all the things she trained him to do."

Snowman. She rises to the forefront of his mind again. Slick has a tendency to lose his temper when guys even look at Snowman, and those guys have a tendency to lose their lives as soon as Slick gets within stabbing range. That's just looking. Knowing that she's been on her knees for this prick, that she's been willingly wrapping her mouth around this cock, leaving lipstick prints for Slick, is enough to send him into a blistering rage. It's also enough to get his own cock all the way hard.

"Will you look at that, he's getting off." Die reaches down and prods at Slick's bulge, and Slick flinches, not wanting to show Die how good that one touch felt. This isn't the way this situation should be playing out. If anyone should be fucking someone, it's Slick. He shouldn't be forced to gag on one asshole's dick while another prods at his erection, and the last spooky bastard just stands silently in the background, doing who-the-fuck-knows-what. Die keeps running that mouth of his, "You think he does this for his crew? Angry guy like him probably needs to be stuffed full of dicks to keep him in line."

"Maybe. He's not half bad at it, but I'm doing most of the work," Crowbar's thrusts get faster, and Slick works his hands into fists. He's drooling around Crowbar's cock, and at least that makes the nasty taste easier to handle. But it just makes him swallow even more, and by this point, he's practically sucking on Crowbar. He tries not to think about that, but like the dick, it's impossible to avoid when it's right there.

Slick twists his arms again, trying to find some weak-point in the ropes. His legs are starting to hurt, and the fingers digging into the back of his skull are equally painful in their own way. Slick wants to bite Crowbar again, but he can't risk it. What he does risk is letting his teeth scrape on Crowbar's shaft. All that does it get a hiss out of Crowbar, and another smack from the pistol, this time to the back of his head.

“Watch the teeth,” Crowbar pushes in deep as he can go and Slick gags again. Fucking Crowbar, fucking Snowman, fucking Felt ruining what was supposed to be a simple heist. God, he’s so hard that it almost hurts. The loathing swells up in him, almost more powerful than the rage. He shouldn’t be getting off on this, but he is, and the self-loathing just sends it into a horrible death spiral of constantly increasing rage and arousal.

“He’s not so annoying when his mouth is full,” He can’t see Die, but he can hear him moving around behind Slick, that pistol pressed tight to Slick’s head, “We should just keep him like this. Whatda say Stitch?”

“You couldn’t pay me to put my cock anywhere near him,” Stitch says, somewhere off to the side, maybe still leaning against the accountant’s desk, “Snowman isn’t worth that.”

“You say that, but you don’t mean it,” Crowbar sounds sickeningly sincere when he talks, like he actually believes the shit he’s saying, “She’s worth all of this.”

He swears for a moment he can taste Snowman's cunt, the old familiar musky scent. Then he realizes that he can taste it. It’s not just lipstick on the cock. Slick tries to scream with rage, but it just comes out muffled and wet and sodden. Die laughs again, and nudges that fucking pistol against the back of Slick's neck, like he could forget that it's there.

Crowbar's cock keeps bumping into the back of Slick's throat. The hand on the back of his head keeps Slick mostly still. He can't even turn his head to the side and try spit Crowbar out. Some deep down part of him thinks maybe it would be best if he went back to helping Crowbar along and got this over with, but the rest of Slick quashes that like a bug. There's no way he's helping Crowbar with anything, especially not getting off. Crowbar's gotten real quiet, but Slick can hear the son of a bitch grunting.

Slick bunches his fists up again, pulling on his ropes fruitlessly. His traitorous mind keeps running images of Snowman fucking Crowbar, of her moaning like a whore as she lies across her bed, and kneeling in front of Crowbar, carefully putting lipstick prints all up and down his cock, just for Slick. He wants his hands free, just so he can wrap a hand over his dick and stroke himself until he goes blind. Slick's so busy thinking about Snowman that he doesn't realize how close Crowbar is to the edge until Crowbar just comes in Slick's mouth.

Slick tries to pull off, but the hand on his head keeps him in place, and Slick has to choose between choking and swallowing. He swallows. The taste is never going to leave his mouth. Crowbar finally pulls his dick out of Slick's mouth and Slick coughs, spitting on the ground. The lipstick marks are all smudged to hell and back, and half of them are gone. Crowbar tucks himself away, and Slick glares up at the Felt, "I'm going to kill all of you."

"I don't think so," Crowbar crouches down, looking Slick in the eye, "What you're going to do is sit here and stew in your own festering rage until somebody finds you. We're going to take the money and walk out of here without a mark on us. And you're not going to tell your friends what happened, unless you want them to really know what went down."

Slick almost hisses out 'fuck you', but catches himself at the last minute. Having his face fucked is bad enough. The last thing he wants is one of the other two to fuck him in the ass because he made a smartassed comment.

Crowbar spots the hesitation and gives Slick a pat on the cheek, "Atta boy. I'll say hi to Snowman for you. I'm sure she'll have lots of new gifts to give you the next time we cross paths." He straightens up, and the three Felt members head out. Die thumbs his nose at Slick before shutting the door and leaving Slick tied up in the middle of the store.

"Fuck you!" Slick yells out, only once he's sure they can't hear him, and then he sits back on his legs. His head aches, his mouth tastes sour and dry, there's cum on the side of his mouth, and he's still fucking hard. This may be the worst fucking day ever.


End file.
